


Original Works

by technogoddess



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2020-02-15 21:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18678043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technogoddess/pseuds/technogoddess
Summary: A collection of original short fiction





	1. Snowfall

**Author's Note:**

> I was told to start writing down my ideas (even if they're short), so I can start developing my writing. So here you go.

    Sounds escaped the broken glass, a crack, a snap, a crunch. Each sound signified something greater: death; with each passing sound the noise would get louder and finality would be certain. Heavy air, the kind that sank unto the ground and killed the ease of breathing, filled her lungs and stung her insides in a thousand sharp doses. There were past moments when the falling of snow meant something more, when children’s wonder was filled with happiness and young couples polluted the streets, greedily stealing moments like they would have all the time in the world. Selfish; they should’ve known better. But then again, she was young once too, and even back then she took love and moments, and she was just as guilty as the rest. She couldn’t have been past 20 when it happened, now there were barren streets and she was the only one there. She broke the stillness and moved. She had always imagined the antagonist in her life story to be a lack of success or love, something extensional, but now she was given one that had a face. A face she longed to never see, one that held all her fears and sins in its eyes. She ducked under empty stands and garbage cans, each item getting her closer and closer to her destination. It took almost too long, but she found herself in an old office building and she could finally breathe a little easier. She passed by overturned desks and smashed monitors until she found an old board room that she could sleep in for the night. The room in any other time would have been average (may even below that), but to her, she had found a small portion of heaven. The door could lock, it was several stories up so anything on the streets wouldn’t be able to find her and her favorite part: a bird’s eye view of the city below. Snow dusted surrounding rooftops, reflecting the purples of the setting sky, the whole city glowed. It was time for her to sleep. She crawled underneath the large oak table and gazing out of the window drifted off.

   Hours seemed to have past (she didn’t have any way of knowing) and she woke up in the darkness. Not knowing why she woke up, she laid there thinking of her life and everything that had led her to this point. A wedding, a birth, devastation. Each event had brought her to this point, she knew her life had to mean something. She crept from underneath the desk and turned to face the window. She saw her life, her death, her fear, her innocence gazing back at her in the shape of eyes. 


	2. Courtyard

The grass swayed with the warm breeze, murmuring with each gentle pass. The crunch of dead fallen leaves and a lone bird chirping permeated the air, never asking for natures permission only following its inward desires. When the breeze would stop she could hear the bugs conversations and feel the caress of the daunting heat against her skin, both warming and burning her skin. She sat there; observing the few passerby’s. She noticed their stature and their gate, each one different, unique. Passengers, she thought, so swept away in the endless adventure of living never taking a moment to stop and listen. Not for the lone bird, or the murmuring grass, or the endless conversations of the bugs. As each set of feet passed, so did their stories. Stories of pain and love, deceit and humanity, all passed by in calculated footsteps and she was helpless to stop them. She had found her piece of heaven in this secluded courtyard, but she understood that her heaven wasn’t hers nor anyone else’s. Time was irrelevant to her, she had forfeited it willingly entering into this personal eden and as more and more people passed by her, she felt as though she didn’t belong to herself either.


End file.
